


A Second Chance

by sundaystyle



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Amnesia, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Doctor/Patient, F/M, Gen, I Don't Even Know, Natasha Feels, Protective Clint Barton, Temporary Amnesia, clint barton is smarter than people give him credit for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 14:02:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2231733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sundaystyle/pseuds/sundaystyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a mission goes wrong, Natasha has temporary amnesia. Clint assumes the role of one of his fake personalities with a real background - a background unknown by many to take care of her. He decides to let her choose the path this time, whether or not if she wants to start a blank page with her life or join SHIELD again, with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Second Chance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pamelaroseee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pamelaroseee/gifts).



> Just had this idea, not sure how to continue it but i have a few ideas.  
> Gifting to @theseniorcitizen again because I love her and I give her prompts all anonymously which she writes so perfectly and I think she's amazing and deserves more gifts (even though my writing is definitely not up to par with many. I'm working on it x)

"You're awake."

There was something heavy sitting on her, she realized, as an unfamiliar voice was louder than usual in her ear. She was surrounded by the dark before she realized her eyes were closed, as with a heavy sigh she changed it. Blinking open, she gave herself a few minutes to adjust to the brightness, there was so much white. 'Hospital', her mind urged her to realize, although there was something slightly off. She couldn't remember the night before but she was sure it wasn't spent with partying or even outside. 

Scanning the area still slightly off the balance, her eyes finally stopped on the guy- the doctor, her mind helped, although with a little bit of doubt. Sure he was in the right suit, with the lab coat and the chart and whatnot- but it was probably the spark in his eyes that made her uneasy. He also looked a little unreadable, but then again she guessed doctors were always in a different world than normal human beings. 

"How are you feeling?" asked the, actually quite good looking doctor, not that she was about to say that. He wasn't too tall but was well-built, blonde but toned. His eyes looked straight at her like he knew her better than anyone else, and considering he was holding her medical chart, she guessed that's probably true. He was walking closer to her but something made him pause in his steps, and she wasn't sure but he seemed worried. Her insights were telling her that something was off with this scenario, but she decided to ignore it. 

"Uhh. Fine." She replied, still not sure what she was doing there. "What happened?" 

The doctor frowned but suddenly all emotion from his face was neutral, as if she had been imagining all the readings from his eyes from before. A quizzical look at the chart before back at her and he nod. "What do you remember? Can you tell me your name?"

She frowned. She knew that answer, she could find it somewhere in the back of her mind but it was suddenly locked in its own cage, not allowing her to take a peek. "My name..." she started, feeling the panic in the pit of her stomach, but somehow keeping her cool. It was as if he sensed her discomfort that the doctor moved at one quick swift, holding her shoulders and letting her lay back. 

"It's okay. You are in a hospital, in Iowa. You were in a really bad shape when you arrived." She noticed he was holding some sort of light in her eyes so she let him do his thing, listening to his explanation as his voice calmed her down in a strange way, it was as if she could listen to him talk all day long. "We don't know when your memory will come back but it's not permanent. You just have to be patient. Now," he stopped testing her whatever it was that he was testing her for. She felt lost in the colour of his eyes, a sea of green and blue. "What is the last thing you remember?"

She bit her lower lip, worried slightly and it felt like a century had passed before she could finally let out a broken sigh. "I... don't...I'm sorry." 

She had no idea who she is, who she was and what she was doing.

A clean start at life and she didn't even remember what she looked like.

Her hands were of a strangers.

Her voice, now that she realized, was not the one she heard for many years- how many, she didn't even know.

She could feel her heart beating faster until it started to calm down and that's when she realized the world was turning darker too. And the last thing she saw was a pair of blue-green eyes, staring at her in a pool of worry and sadness.

And she fall asleep.

 

 

"Barton, report."

The strict and cold tone of voice awake him from his daydream, realizing he has been staring into his cup of coffee for longer than 2 hours – maybe, and it’s been ice cold in his hands already. Putting it on the table Clint stood up biting the inside of his mouth to keep his voice from wavering. 

“There were some technical difficulties, sir, at our landing. We were made before we even got to the meeting point with the target. We had to improvise our strategy so Black Widow went in first. I was taking care of reinforcements that kept on arriving. We met at the evacuation point, but the target was going away. We went after him and took him down. Mission has been accomplished, sir.”

They both knew the agent was leaving out the bloody and messy details, those never made it to the actual mission reports, never mentioned that they never received back up. Coulson nodded and both their stances suddenly shifted from the hard gazes to two friends supporting one another. “Barton…” Phil started, putting his hand on the archers shoulder. 

Now he had a chance to look him over, realizing the way he was slightly hunched over. He probably had a bad wound near his stomach area, Coulson analysed, which Clint probably took care of it on his own – from his military past Coulson knew that Clint was aware which wounds will heal with small care and which ones are mortal unless he shows it to the medical. He didn’t approve of it, but he gave up after a few years of trying to get him to take care of himself properly. 

“She’s alive. So that’s good.” The archer started, his tone taking a sarcastic approach. “I got in, grabbed a lab coat and her chart. Heard nurses talkin’.” He started explaining, sitting back down. 

“She doesn’t remember Coulson. She’s very upset and scared and it’s not like her at all. ” 

Coulson heard the situation from Clint, who could tell the background story and they both knew that the doctors at S.H.I.E.L.D would take better care of her, knowing her medical background better than any other. Clint had another idea. And honestly, Hawkeye had a certain way of having things go his way.

That was how a SHIELD medical agent was now trailing behind a Clint Barton in scrubs in the hospital at Iowa, while neither Fury nor Coulson was sure when and how they agreed to it. Arrangements have been made and Natasha was released in the care of Dr. Frank Robbins’s clinic. 

“Natasha”, offered the name by her doctors as she felt it was okay to be called, stared at the door with the name tag Frank Robbins, MD. She looked it up online, who her doctor was. Because if she didn’t know who she is, she might as well look up others who know her. 

Frank Robbins, MD, was a very smart guy, as she found out. After graduating from his medical faculty, he dropped out from his education to serve at the military. There weren’t much about him after that, she couldn’t even find much information about his clinic, but it made sense. It seemed that it was a private clinic that he accepted only a few patients – as there seemed to be no one else but her she found that slightly weird but the nurse who greeted her told her that Dr. Robbins often served at the hospitals when he was called. The clinic was just a place he maintained when the hospitals got in the way.

Such as the case of Natasha, she realized. She was led into a room to get her tests done- with much better equipment and she was slightly impressed. How an army doctor got this far and this rich, she didn’t know if it was any possible but kept her observations to herself. 

She didn’t see Dr. Robbins until near the end of her tests, when he showed up to read up on the results, talking softly and exchanging information with the other doctor that had been silently working on her. She tried to eavesdrop but the terms had been too medical for her to follow, names of drugs maybe, or operations. She glanced down at her body to look at the cuts and bruises, she had no idea where they came from. It made her angry and frustrated again, to be so lost about herself. She felt really helpless.

As if sensing her distress, Dr. Robbins was at her side in a second, Natasha didn’t know how he could tell or leave everything behind to support her. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked again, softly but this time with a wall between them she wasn’t sure where that came from. He had more of a professional air even without the lab coat.

“How do you think?” She groaned, not sure how they expected her to reply. She felt a bit more embarrassed the next second, they were trying to help her. “Sorry. I’m fine. Except, I still can’t remember anything.”

The young doctor didn’t seem to be offended much, as if he was used to it. “I read that you were in the army.” She continued when he said nothing but continued to read and write some stuff to her chart. She got his interest with that statement, his eyes locking with hers. 

“I was. I served in the army for 3 years before I moved back here.” He explained, going back to writing in the paper before putting it away, sitting on the chair next to her. She guessed he had time to do that, since they were in his personal clinic – something was strange about that, her mind was warning, but she decided to ignore it again. What did she know? Not even her name, come to think of it. Her mind wasn’t exactly her best friend at the moment.

“Did you… Did you find out anything about me?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. She knew the hospital must have released a form, because that’s what they do, right? They look for your relatives. And she didn’t come across to any missing adverts with her face on it but there has to be someone out there looking out for him. God, she hoped there was.  
Dr. Robbins swallowed around his words, picking what he’s going to say very carefully with a calm tone. 

“From your accent we guess you’re from Russia. What we can tell, you’re around 30 years old, at most.” He shifted a little in his chair. “We made a few tests. You’ve been in several operations before. We’re guessing you know and practice martial arts, or something similar where you use the muscles in your body, because of the way they’re shaped. Does any of it ring any bell?” He asked, slightly hopeful.

Natasha, while listening to him curiously, found nothing in his words that spoke to her. Shaking her head lightly, she breathed out from her nose, frustrated and sad and angry and he could easily see she was very upset. 

“Sorry.” She muttered under her breath before shifting to sit up. “Doctor Robbins…” She started and the doctor blinked. “I…Can I ask for a favour?”

She was embarrassed and shy about it but honestly she didn’t know what else to do or who to ask. Seeing the guy nodding, she held tight on the sheets of the bed. “I don’t…have anywhere to go.” 

It was as if no one considered that once she was taken out from the hospital and escorted here. While she realized it wasn’t any of the doctors business, she could see that the guy actually was taken aback by her simple acceptance. She didn’t know what to ask for and she didn’t have to. 

“I have a small one room apartment, near here. I don’t… I don’t usually stay there. You can, if you want, live there until you figure out what’s…that you want to do.” He replied finally, leaning back in his chair. 

Her mind was sounding red alarms because everything that’s been happening shouldn’t be normal, this was strange and that was an offer which wouldn’t usually come from some doctor she barely knew. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting but that was definitely not this.

She didn’t even think who paid for her expenses in the hospital or was it something that hospitals did out of genuine care for people who don’t know who they are.  
This was strange, Natasha knew, she could tell. 

It was strange that the doctor looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered when he thought he was out of her sight, and it was strange that she felt comfort when he was around her. Something was bugging her. Something was not right.

Natasha nodded, eventually, taking up on the offer after promising she’d pay rent when she set her life straight. She’d have to figure out what she can do and find a job. She didn’t even know if she had any degrees.

 

They parted after he handed her the keys to her new place, simple and freshly decorated. Slightly dusty but she could work with that. No food, but he had lent her some money – enough to pass her by for the week, until their next meeting at the clinic. He handed her a pay phone with his number recorded.

Before she could ask him why he was doing this, he disappeared and she was staring into the empty apartment, ready for her to explore.

A book was on the coffee table, making her fingers itch to pick it up. The cover was somewhat familiar and she had a feeling she knew the story before she even read it.

Regardless, she picked it up and started to read until she passed out in the couch.

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think?


End file.
